


A Beautiful Day for a Neighbor

by abstractconcept



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: AU, Age Difference, Colorado Avalanche, Could be underage, Crossgen, Hand-job, M/M, PWP, Porn, Power Imbalance, Sex for Favors, blow-job, dub-con due to age, non-hockey au, watching porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 05:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3477026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abstractconcept/pseuds/abstractconcept
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matty likes helping out his neighbor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Beautiful Day for a Neighbor

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to Mr. Rogers for the title! This is pure filth containing an older, in-control guy basically seducing the kid next door. I had a rough day and this was my way of coping. 
> 
> Written for Trope Bingo square "au: neighbors."

It looked to be done snowing—at least, the flakes had stopped for the moment. But the clouds were still coming in, and the ones over the mountains were big and thick and ominous. Matt looked down, carefully avoiding patches of ice. He used the shovel he was carrying as sort of a walking stick to keep his balance. It was sure cold, but it was colder inside than out, and anyway, at least out here it was quiet. 

“Hey, Matty. What you doing out here on a day like today?”

Matt had been so lost in his own thoughts that the thick French-Canadian voice took him by surprise and he skidded a little on a frozen puddle before regaining his balance. He looked up, blinking a little. His neighbor was getting his mail. He’d probably just gotten home from work. “Oh, hi, Mr. Roy. I was wondering if maybe you wanted me to clear your driveway.”

Roy smiled. He liked Matty—well, most people in the neighborhood did. He was polite to adults and anyway, Roy used to play professional hockey, and Matty always encouraged him to relive the glory days. He liked that a lot. “Sure, that would be good,” he said. 

Matt beamed, thinking of the money he’d get. Mr. Roy was nice and always gave him a fat tip for any chores he offered to do. “I’ll have you dug out in a jiffy,” he promised. 

Roy laughed. “Probably gonna have to have you do it all over again in a couple hour,” he said, looking pensively at the sky out west.

“Maybe,” Matt said slyly. It wouldn’t hurt Matt’s wallet if he did. 

Roy laughed again and went inside and left Matty to his work. It sure felt good to get some exercise and fresh air. He’d thought he was going to suffocate if he spent one more minute with his parents. Several minutes in, his shoulders were burning from the effort—and the back of his head was hot, too. He glanced over and sure enough, Patrick Roy was standing in his big picture window, sipping something from a cup and watching Matty’s work intently.

Matt pretended he hadn’t noticed, but couldn’t help sneaking a look over his shoulder now and then. Roy had a way of looking at him that made a fire kindle deep in his belly. Those intense blue eyes could really eat you alive. They reminded Matty of a wolf or something, some kind of predator. Thinking about it made him shiver. With a sudden moment of boldness, he straightened and looked over his shoulder. He offered an encouraging grin, and Roy blinked a little, laughed, and withdrew back behind the curtains.

Too bad. Matt enjoyed being looked at like Roy wanted to eat him up.

It took half an hour of strenuous effort to clear the whole driveway. He made sure he did a good job, though. He wanted Mr. Roy to approve. Besides, the longer he took, the longer he had an excuse not to go home. 

Finally he trudged up and rang the front bell. He smiled tiredly when Mr. Roy opened the door. “All finished!”

“Yeah?” Roy made a show of stepping out and scrutinizing Matt’s handiwork. “You did a good job,” he said, and Matt beamed. “Come on inside and I will get my wallet.”

The inside of the house was toasty warm. 

“You want some hot cider?”

“Sure,” Matt said eagerly. The man went into the kitchen and came back with a steaming mug. Now if he could only get the older man reminiscing about his glory days, he’d have a real nice afternoon. There was a fire in the other room, and yet it was dark inside, most of the curtains drawn, not many lights on. It made for a cozy, safe atmosphere. Matt carefully undid the ties on his boots and put them by the front door so he wouldn’t track snow in. Roy offered him a smile as he handed him the cider. “Thanks. It’s really nice of you to offer me a drink.”

Roy was giving him that look again, that strange, hungry look. “You are a good kid,” he said huskily. 

Matt smiled self-consciously. He didn’t suppose the man really did want what he seemed to, but he sure liked the idea. He had never told another living soul that he liked guys, and had never had an opportunity to mess around with any. So far as he knew, no other guy on Earth had ever been attracted to him. The idea of seducing a big-shot lawyer like Roy was really a nice fantasy. He sipped his cider, wishing he knew how to find out the truth or even what to do if he knew it. “I was hoping you would tell me more about back when you played hockey,” he suggested. 

“Oh, sure, I am always happy to spend time with you. But I should not keep you too long or your parent will worry.”

Matt grimaced. “I kinda doubt that. They’re so busy fighting they probably don’t even know I’m gone. Anyway, it’s not like I have a curfew.” Did the guy think he was still in elementary school or something? He had his own car, for Christ’s sake. No one worried about him.

“They are fighting again, huh? I am sorry. You know, you always welcome here if you want some peace and quiet.”

“Oh, thanks!” Roy had a neat house, with a pool table and a huge TV and an amazing stereo system. He wouldn’t mind hanging out, especially since it was so . . . so masculine. Matty loved all the rough leather chairs and the dark hardwood floors and rough tables and lamps that looked like they were carved out of stumps, or fashioned from wood that washed up on the beach. And more than anything, Matty liked the way the place smelled, spicy and musky and wild. It was a mix of Roy’s cologne and the apple cider and probably other stuff too, maybe some kind of room spray or something. Whatever it was, when it all came together just right it was very heady and made Matt think about filthy things, like whether if you got naked with a guy on that leather couch you would end up staining it. 

Roy was giving him that look again, and Matt’s face began to heat as he realized he’d probably been getting a particular look of his own. He wondered if Roy could still recognize the expression of a horny teenager. He gulped at his cider. 

Roy let out a long breath. “I am gonna get the bourbon, spice mine up a bit. Want a little to warm you up?”

Matty’s eyes widened. It wasn’t an offer to fuck, but it was way outside what was considered appropriate, and therefore gave Matt some hope. “Sure,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound too eager. _Take advantage of me, take advantage of me, **please** take advantage of me,_ he thought to himself. 

The man didn’t give him a lot, just a quick splash, but it gave Matty quite a rush to see it pour into his cup. To him it represented something—perhaps the respect one man gave to another, or perhaps that Roy wanted to get him drunk and in the mood.

He smiled shyly at the man as he sipped it. “Maybe we should sit down somewhere.”

Roy looked oddly uncomfortable at that. “Eh, well—”

They couldn’t stand around all day. Matt wandered toward the living room, which was off the dining room and just past the front stairs. 

“Matty—” Roy croaked. 

Matt stood, frozen, in the doorway. Two men were likewise frozen on Roy’s giant television screen, but it was very obvious what they’d be doing if it hadn’t been paused. He felt his face flush to the hairline. 

A strained silence stretched for several moments.

“Oh wow, that’s so hot,” Matt blurted. 

Roy made a noise of surprise. 

On automatic pilot, Matt moved closer and saw a handful of DVDs spilled on the tv stand as if someone had been trying to decide which one to watch. Without thinking, he picked them up and looked over the covers. “Oh, _wow_ ,” he groaned. He hadn’t even been sure the neighbor liked men. Having the evidence in his hand made Matt’s whole body tremble just a little, like a gentle electric current pulsed through him.

The DVD on top featured two muscled, naked men, total hunks. Matt’s blood began to thrum in his ears. Oh, wow. And Roy was into stuff like this? Oh, _wow._

“You like this?” Roy’s voice had changed, no longer alarmed or uncertain. 

Matt nodded hard, face still burning, but the warmth was no longer contained to his face. “Oh, God, look at _this_ one,” he moaned. 

Patrick looked over his shoulder at the DVD cover. There was a guy in a blindfold, all tied up, lashed to the bed, while another guy, muscled and dark, stood over him, his erection monstrous. “You like that one?” he purred in Matty’s ear.

“Uh-huh,” Matt said emphatically. Then he looked up in terror. “Um. Pleasedon’ttellmyparents,” he blurted. 

“I not gonna do that.” That glint was back in Roy’s eye, stronger than ever. 

“Oh. Thanks, Mr.—”

“Patrick,” Roy corrected.

Matt’s heart leapt. “Patrick,” he breathed. He glanced back at the men on the screen, feeling keenly aware that he was being watched. The thought excited him. 

“Maybe we could arrange a trade,” Patrick offered. “If you gonna do chores for me, maybe I let you watch some video.”

Matt shifted uncomfortably. He decided to play naïve. “I couldn’t take it home with me,” he said. “I don’t have a television of my own.” _Because my parents don’t want me watching smut like this._

“You don’t gotta take it home. You can watch it here.”

Matt let out an undignified noise that sounded like a squeak. “Would you . . . watch it with me?” 

“If you want me to.” Roy’s— _Patrick’s_ —gaze was as even as his voice. Matt nodded, eyes wide, not trusting his own voice to be even. “Yes? You want to do that?”

Matt licked his lips. “I would do absolutely anything for that,” he managed in a hoarse voice. 

Patrick’s lip curled. “Good. Then—you do a chore, you get a reward. Fair enough?” 

Matt whimpered. He couldn’t help himself. 

Patrick arranged himself on that big leather couch and looked at Matt speculatively. “Undo your pant.”

Matt squirmed. He felt hot with embarrassment—but also pleasure. “Um, really?”

“I let you sit down first, you not gonna do it later. You gonna get shy. Trust me. It is easier this way,” Patrick said, sipping his cider. 

Matt nodded, amazed. Now that he thought about it, that probably was exactly what would happen. Once he sat down he’d start worrying and wondering things like if he should ask permission to do something like that, and that would sound lame so he’d never have the courage and—Patrick read him like a book. 

He sat beside the man, looking up at him in awe. He’d grown three inches over the summer and was taller than his father, but Roy was still taller than him. Somehow it added to the sense of power and control the man wielded. Matt felt something desperate flutter inside. God, what would it be like if Patrick fucked him? He _really_ wanted Patrick to fuck him. He squirmed in his seat, feeling his prick growing stiffer. To his surprise, the leather of the couch wasn’t the kind that would stick to skin—it was suede that felt soft as butter beneath his hand. 

Patrick smiled. “Little more bourbon?” he asked. He poured more into Matty’s cup. It was warm and good and sweet with the cider, but still smoldered all the way down into his stomach. Patrick’s gaze lingered on his mouth, and Matt shivered despite the burn of the bourbon.

Patrick un-paused the video. Matt watched in awe as the men slid against each other, skin to skin, open mouths questing for each other. Their slick bodies seemed to move rhythmically to an unheard beat, pulsing and undulating, muscles clenching and flexing. Unconsciously, Matt began to rock a little, his own hips longing to replicate the movement. Matty licked his lips, watching the stiff length of cock as it was swallowed by the other man’s hole. As impossible as it looked, he bet it would feel good to be stretched open that way. He’d seen porn before, of course, but only on the computer, and never as much as he wanted, and never like this. He greedily drank it in, breath coming in hitches. He bet it felt good to be tied up and fucked that way, arms helplessly attached to the bedposts. He squirmed, his cock perking up at the very idea.

“You can touch yourself,” Patrick suggested in a smoky voice that was as intoxicating as the bourbon.

“Want you to touch me,” Matty grunted impulsively. 

Patrick smiled. “I will,” he promised. “Want to see you do it first.”

God, how fucking hot was it that Patrick wanted to watch him? As always, Matty felt totally exposed and undone by the man’s gaze. He stroked himself to full hardness, fisting his cock, pumping it, writhing as Patrick’s intent stare made him even harder. How was Patrick so sexy? He wasn’t even undressed. Sure, he was wearing the same suit he’d probably worn to work, but he wasn’t touching himself or anything. He was just sitting there tensely, watching Matty like a hawk, a slightly smug look on his face. 

Matt’s attention was torn between the pulsing, naked, thrusting men on the screen and the fully clothed, fully controlled man right next to him. Patrick looked like he could be in a corporate meeting or something. He sure didn’t look like he was avidly drinking in the sight of his young neighbor jerking himself off—except for his smoldering eyes. 

Matty was beginning to whimper through clenched teeth. He wanted—something—something more—friction or—

“Want me to take care of you?” Patrick whispered, and Matty nodded, biting his lip. “Please,” he grunted.

Patrick reached out to stroke his cock, twisting a little around the head, and Matt nearly died. His head fell back as he groaned. “Oh, fuck, yes, _please_.”

“You like that?”

Matt’s whole cock throbbed, engulfed by the man’s strong, sure hand, pumping him. He could just see the head peeking out of his fist, a pearl of pre-come forming at the tip. “Oh, God, I love it,” he promised. Matt had never been so fucking horny, sitting there in the dim light with Patrick looking at him like his favorite toy.

“I know you love that.” Somehow Patrick’s smug voice made it even _hotter_ , and he nodded hard. Patrick reached out, cupped Matt’s chin with his other hand, and turned his face to Patrick. “When I am finish, you are gonna suck me off, okay?” _Oh, shit._ Even the thought of it—even the _thought_ almost sent Matty over the edge.

Eyes wide, Matt nodded. “Yes, sir. Yes, please,” he panted. 

Patrick smiled. “Good boy.”

God, the vision—Patrick—his zipper undone, Matt on his knees, mouth open, tongue obediently out—Matt’s throat closed up and he climaxed, a rush of pleasure flooding his whole body, his stocking feet drumming Patrick’s polished wood floor. “Oh God, oh, God,” he gasped. Semen spurted over Patrick’s fist and dribbled over Matt’s shirt and jeans. 

Patrick sat back a moment, staring at his hand. Then he shook himself a little. “Your turn,” he said in a dark voice. 

Matt watched, enthralled, as he unzipped his trousers, and his thick cock spilled out, bobbing a little. To Matty’s surprise, Patrick dragged the back of his hand over the length of his cock, wiping Matt’s own semen on it. Matt flushed. Patrick grinned rather evilly at his expression. “No?”

Matt shook his head, then blinked. “No, it’s fine, I promise,” he swore. 

As if to test this, Patrick reached out and dragged his finger over Matt’s bottom lip. Christ, they hadn’t even kissed, and here he was, wanting Matty to taste his own come. And why the fuck was that so hot? Matt wouldn’t be ready to go again for awhile, but when he was, he would open this spankbank again and again. Matt sucked Patrick’s finger, thrilling at the approval on the man’s face. 

Then Matty pushed the man’s hand away, took a deep breath, and leaned down. Sure, he’d never sucked anyone’s dick before, but so what? Everyone’s got to start somewhere. Anyway, the if noise Patrick made when Matt licked the tip of his cock was any indication, he might end up being pretty good at it. It was sort of sloppy, but Patrick didn’t complain. Matt licked his way up and down the shaft, pausing to press a kiss here or there, and Patrick stroked his hair. 

Matt thought it would be gross, but it really wasn’t that gross at all, even trailing his tongue through his own come. Well, it was filthy, but definitely in a fun, life-affirming way. It made Matty feel electric, excited and looking forward to the next time. 

As Matt began to suck the man’s cock, he started to wonder what next time would be like. Would he get to stay the night? Would Patrick suck _him_ off? Could he get Patrick to tie him up? Would he maybe see Patrick’s bedroom? 

All the while he had been taking Patrick’s cock deeper and deeper, and he heard the man suck in a breath. He paused, not sure if he’d done something wrong. “Mon bébé,” Patrick grunted.

Suddenly Patrick’s fingers trembled against the curls at the base of his neck, and then his mouth was flooded with Patrick’s come. 

Matt coughed, sitting up quickly, and spat into a Kleenex. Patrick didn’t seem wholly finished, so Matt slipped his fingers around the fat, slick cock, and pumped it, carefully trying to milk the man through his orgasm. Patrick’s vivid blue eyes were shut, his brow knotted, his mouth parted, just slightly slack. His face was as vulnerable as Matt had ever seen it, and he marveled. _He’d_ done that. He felt a rush of warmth.

Finally Patrick reached down and cupped his own hand around Matt’s, stilling it. He gave Matty a lazy smile. “You should throw that away,” he said, nodding to the Kleenex, now wadded on his expensive leather couch. Matty hurriedly put it in a wastebasket. 

Matt cleared his throat. “S—sorry I spit it out,” he mumbled. 

Patrick looked surprised, then pleased. “I should have warn you. It surprise me as much as you,” he explained. 

“Yeah, but—” Matt felt inexplicably angry. Maybe it was the perfectionist in him. He liked to do a job right, even if it was just a blow job. “I—I wanted to. It would have been hot that way.”

“It’s okay. Maybe next time.” Patrick’s eyes twinkled, and Matt felt a lot better. 

Then he sighed. Fighting or no fighting, it was getting to be dinner time, and there would be even _more_ fighting if he didn’t get home on time. “I should go.” This thought was immediately followed by another. “When can I come back?” he asked eagerly. 

“I don’t know. You got an after school job?”

Matt shook his head.

Patrick laughed. “You do now.”

Matt squirmed with pleasure. “I could shovel again. Or—or if it doesn’t snow, I could . . . clean the floors.”

Patrick thought this over. “Mmm. Floors. Naked on all fours,” he said faintly. “That would be nice.”

“Great!” Matt checked the clock and hurried to button himself up. Patrick was doing the same, though the semen was evident against his dark trousers. He’d probably go change anyway. So would Matt—before dinner. He could always say he spilled something or slipped in a puddle. 

Patrick walked him to the door. 

“See you tomorrow?” Matt asked shyly.

Patrick laughed and gave him a hilariously chaste kiss. “Yes. What will you tell your parent you are doing?” he asked curiously.

Matt grinned. “I’ll be truthful,” he said. He was always pretty truthful. He just wouldn’t be very specific. “I’ll tell them I’m being neighborly.”

Patrick snorted. 

Matt hurried home, not feeling cold at all despite the darkness and wind-chill. He’d do work around the house, and in return, Patrick would do _him_. What a great arrangement!


End file.
